


June

by Santi_C



Series: Calendar [4]
Category: Hollyoaks
Genre: Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Fear, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-04-23 12:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19150831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Santi_C/pseuds/Santi_C
Summary: The morning after last ep (Harry getting James to believe he didn't hit Grace).Harry needs some comfort in the wake of recent events, and James is being James.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Two chapters entirely separate.  
> 1) Jarry  
> 2) Jarnie

Harry needed to feel as close to James as he could, feel his warm skin on as much of his as physically possible. He lay on top of him, his face tickled by chest hair, James with one hand between Harry's shoulders and the other rested a little lower.

"Am I too heavy?" Harry asked.

James assured him no with a gentle whisper as he started to rub his back soothingly.

"I love you," Harry said, his throat already caught and his emotions right at the surface.

"Shh, it's okay," James responded. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't ever leave me," Harry said, too vulnerable to care how it sounded in his regressive state.

"It won't be that way around."

"No," Harry protested, pushing himself up so he could see James' face. "I wanna be with you forever."

James encouraged him to lie back down, the tips of his fingers gently running up and down his arms and shoulders.

Harry didn't like James doing himself down; he wanted to show him he was loved, the subject of his complete devotion. Harry had never even contemplated leaving James since they had got together properly. Whatever problem they were faced with, Harry was determined to find an answer; every decision he made and every action he took was so that they could be together, him and the love of his life. It had only been a few months but he knew it. James had intrigued him for years and loved him almost as long. This wasn't the experiment, the risk, he had feared it would be when he was still clinging on to his first relationship; this was it. James was his future.

He shuffled upwards and kissed James and soon felt James' hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in and not letting him go. He felt another hand go wandering, fingers splitting his cheeks and ach, it hurt. Harry bucked but he was also pinned down by James' arms, their mouths still on each other. He made a noise, a muffled moan into James' mouth but he was still being penetrated. A moment later, he could feel James get hard and it made him twitch below too.

"James!" he exclaimed, as he managed to wrestle his mouth free.

"Mm?" came the distracted reply.

"Lube."

James gestured over to the drawer with his head, his fingers leaving Harry a little too quickly and adding to the pain.

"Are you _trying_ to hurt me? I can't handle rough today."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologise in bed."

"S... of course." _Mmph!_ came the moan, as Harry turned the tables, his hands slick with lubricant so his fingers glided in even when shoved.

"Yeah?" Harry pretended to ask.

"Yeah."

-

There were a couple of spots of blood on the sheets.

"Whose is that? Mine?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"I'd invite you to cast your mind back a few minutes before you jump to that woefully wrong conclusion." James smiled to let Harry know he was okay.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"A little pain never hurt anyone." 

They stayed in bed all morning, Harry aware they hadn't talked, just the two of them, for this long in ages. At first, it made him feel comforted and safe, even though they had quickly moved on to discussing the most depressing things: his defence, Sadie, the baby on its way. Harry would rather be talking about just about anything else; he was afraid it would make James upset, the litany of errors that had created all these barriers to their happiness but James was unemotional as he suggested all manner of plans to find the woman who held all the cards. That said, he referred to the baby as 'it' and Sadie only as a vehicle for Harry's freedom, a word he kept coming back to as representative of their being together. But James was now in work mode, effectively contingency-planning their lives and very at home with solution-led conversation. 

Harry interrupted James mid-sentence with a kiss.

“What was that for?”

“I'm not your client. Not first, anyway.”

“I know that.”

“Then...?”

“Harry, we have to have a plan.”

“I know. I just... can you just be my boyfriend for a little bit?”

James sighed but brought Harry in close to him with the arm he hadn't been writing with and kissed his ear in an attempt at warmth. “We can't afford to put this to the back of our minds.”

“Can we just take a break? Because the last thing I want, if this doesn't work, is to think we spent...”

“It will work,” James said, emphatically. “Trust me, Harry, I'm not going to let you languish in prison.”

“Like Donna-Marie?”

“That's different. She made her bed.”

Harry raised his eyebrows but let it go. “If you want to go through this later, I will, but just give me two hours of your time where I can pretend none of this is happening. Please.”

“How about we go into town? We can get away from here and go to that Italian you like.”

Harry's face lit up, and he kissed James until he was told to go grab a shower whilst James finished up.

-

Harry made sure not to dry off in the bathroom but instead return to their bedroom glistening wet. He lobbed the towel onto the bed, catching James' attention. He had still been writing away which was of no surprise to Harry at all, but he now put his pen and pad to one side and, as Harry climbed on the bed to straddle him, was satisfyingly mesmerised. There was nothing Harry liked more than having James' undivided attention and he rewarded him with the ride of his life, or at least it was up there. James' wrists were tied to the headboard and he got a slap each time he started to thrust into him rather than let Harry control the pace. Both were soon covered in sweat, Harry especially so from the work he was putting in but James' scent was intoxicating, all the more for not having showered yet, and Harry was in heaven. 

James came hard and Harry repositioned himself onto his face so James could get his fill unprompted. Harry knew what his boyfriend liked by now and it would help him finish off as he rubbed one out to the sensation of James' tongue and lips working him. This time, they'd both get in the shower, Harry's first having been swiftly rendered futile.

-

On the way home from lunch, Harry noted James was not speeding as he normally would and he felt his eyes well up, aware that this was James' way of spending more time with him. He'd never say it, never ask for it like Harry would, but perhaps he wanted it all the same. Harry put his hand on James' thigh appreciatively as they stopped at a red light and James gave him the most gorgeous look in return. This was the thing, he hadn't just fallen in love with James, he fell in love with him over and over again each time he saw him make an effort, each time he saw that helpless look in his eye as his emotions took over, and yes, even when he got caught up in trying to solve their latest legal drama. He knew James loved him and that he just didn't quite know how to show it in the conventional way but that didn't bother him at all; he loved James for who he was and not for how he was supposed to be. 

Sometimes, despite knowing this, he did get scared of losing him. Probably because of how deeply important James had become to him, and how deeply he was aware James felt for him, it made losing all that a terrifying prospect. Like an expensive piece of jewellery that feels too valuable to actually wear, the value of this relationship was exactly what made it dangerous. Finding out he was to be a father when he himself was out there collecting parental figures like some reverse of the von Trappe family had been a shock. He had no idea how to deal with something so... permanent. It certainly wasn't what he wanted, not what he'd asked for and then another fear kicked in: how to tell James Nightingale he'd ruined his dream for them? James had never wanted children but now he'd have three in his life in some way or another, and if he'd struggled to connect with a boy who was almost an adult, how would he fare with a baby that he could not reason with? And how would he, Harry, cope when he'd never planned for any children himself? He'd put up with primary-aged kids but never grown close to them, he could barely feign interest. Would it be different if it was his own? 

It. He didn't even know the sex of his own child. And its mother had run away spitefully, leaving him with the very real possibility of more time in a concrete cage. Aside from anything else, it would be humiliating to have James visit him in there, though he'd do so willingly, and it would physically ache not to be able to enjoy any intimacy with him for months or maybe years on end. He knew his boyfriend would do everything he could to avoid this scenario, that he was just as scared as he was at the idea of being separated yet again, but without Sadie all the evidence pointed to him. They had to find her. Harry didn't want to let down the man who meant most to him in the world, the man he had wanted to be with before he ever sought out Sadie and made the most stupid mistake of his life. 

The car slowed. “We're home,” James confirmed, needlessly.

Harry had never felt less happy to be there and it showed.

“Hey, none of that," James warned. "We've got to think positively.”

Harry faked a smile which was fooling nobody but they got out of the car nonetheless. He lingered behind James a little, the latter finally noticing and telling him to get a move on with no sympathy whatsoever. Lunch was over.


	2. Still June

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James goes down the rabbit hole about this bubba as he is wont to do. James/Marnie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a lil bonus chapter I wrote by surprise this morning so may as well share.

"Oh!" Marnie said with a fright as she walked into the living room and saw Harry straddling her son on the sofa. "Boys, that is entirely inappropriate, don't you think?" 

"We've got our clothes on, mother," James reasoned yet fastened a couple of buttons on his shirt that had somehow come undone.

"Last time I checked you had a bedroom. The largest one in the house, if I recall."

"Well, it is my flat."

"Yes, one in which chivalry is dead as a dodo."

"I'm 6"3. And there's two of us."

The other half of 'two of us' sheepishly climbed down and sat back against the sofa petulantly.

"Oh, do excuse me Harry for spoiling your fun but there are kids in the house."

"Kids who never get up before 12 on a weekend," James protested, Harry sulking too much to add anything. 

"And so I'm supposed to tolerate your exhibitionism, am I? Perhaps," she continued, turning to Harry, "you should go upstairs if I'm such a killjoy.'

Harry shot daggers but sloped upstairs, James hesitant to look too obviously keen in front of his mother but about to follow him when Marnie stuck out an arm. "No. I've got to speak to you."  


"Now?"

"Well you're rather hard to corner, James, so I'll take my opportunity. This... baby..." Those two words were enough to kill any lingering desire of James' to follow Harry. 

"What about it?"

"Well, what plans have you made?"

"What plans can be made, mother? The girl's gone AWOL."

"And if she comes back?"

"Why would she? She appears to want Harry in prison."

"It's one thing flouncing off when you're expecting, another thing entirely to raise a child alone. She may well come back and if she does, I've seen no preparation on your part for that eventuality."

"It's Harry's baby."

"And what preparation has he done? James, I was his age when I had you, and even with a husband by my side it was a lot to take on."

James rolled his eyes but knew Marnie was right. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"No, you won't!" Marnie replied, startling James. "He's going to need a lot of support."

"Not if he's banged up for 23 hours a day, he won't," James whispered in case his voice carried upstairs. "That's my priority right now."

"Your priority is to find the mother of Harry's unborn child. And if you find her, guess what?"

James turned away, sulking, hurting. It was a cruel joke that the one way to protect his life with Harry would also ensure it was changed forever. He knew he was the one with more baggage, his flat more of a home for Mac Nightingale casualties than the love nest he'd desired, but a baby was so different to all that. It surely wouldn't live with them but Harry would surely visit it; he'd take himself off to sing nursery rhymes and wipe up sick. It would take him away from him, and James would have to compete for his time all over again. As the months and years rolled on, Harry would start going to birthday parties and play dates and other things James couldn't abide so would be excluded from. He'd go to dance recitals or rugby matches and connect with all the other parents because as much as James had a son too, coming in after sixteen years didn't count. It wasn't a story to bond with heterosexuals over; they'd have been there from the beginning because their child hadn't been the secret result of their fathers hiring prostitutes to try to convert their sexuality with.

James felt so sad. He hadn't wanted to think about any of this at all. All he wanted was to take his partner to fancy restaurants, champagne bars and make love to him on the fucking sofa if people would just let him before it all got ruined, but he couldn't even have that. Harry had been attentive, clingy even, but only because he was ignoring the problem as much as him. If James was successful in finding this ticking time bomb of a woman, the bittersweetness would rival his father's own death, still fresh in the memory but pushed deep, deep down like all the other thoughts James didn't want to have. Now they rose to the surface.

"James." Marnie approached him, took hold of his hand and stroked his arm. "I don't say any of this to harass you. You know I'm doing it to help you. And to help that poor little boy upstairs who doesn't have his mummy around to make it all okay. Please go and speak to him about this. I'll be what support I can but this needs to be led by you, sweetheart. Alright?"

James wanted to cry, he wanted to shake his head and make it all go away but he knew as well as her it wouldn't. He sniffed, dragged himself out of his sorrowful state and determined he would be that person to lean on again like he'd been for his siblings all those times. He put away his feelings, locked them back in their box and gave his mother a nod.


End file.
